


It's Not Important

by IChallengeMyFate (Ealdremen)



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 19:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3423278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ealdremen/pseuds/IChallengeMyFate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerome refuses to see the healers for a wound he got in a battle. Lucina notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Important

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on ichallengemyfate.tumblr.com as a Nagamas gift for catherinearbour.

“You were struck in the last battle, weren’t you?”

Gerome couldn’t lie to her – so he just stayed silent and hobbled away, no longer trying to conceal the bad leg. It had been easy to hide when he sat astride Minerva’s back or walked aside her in such a way that her body hid his awkward gait. Nobody had seemed any the wiser after he yanked out the arrow himself and haphazardly bandaged his leg to keep it from bleeding out over his clothes.

Except Lucina, apparently. Ever since the battle had ended, she had been giving him anxious looks. At first, Gerome had thought perhaps he had noticed him shadowing her throughout the battle, but in an odd way, it was more of a relief to be confronted about a wound than his behavior.

But she would eventually question _how_ he had gotten hit with an arrow when their tactician had deliberately directed him away from the enemy archers.

Gerome heard Lucina’s uneven footsteps on the grass behind him as she followed. “Gerome, wait–”

“It’s not important,” Gerome grunted.

 _That_ wasn’t a lie. The footsteps quickened, and Lucina stood in front of him. There was weariness in her eyes, a slight hunch to her posture from her exhaustion, but she was still very much the leader they had all followed back to the past. The leader that they all, himself included, would have been willing to die for.

“Gerome, please. Things are different now. We have an abundance of medical supplies and people who can use them. Aunt Lissa was just telling me the other day how they bought several more healing staves just in case something happened. So please—”

It was different now. They had safely reached this era and warned its denizens of the impending disaster. Lucina was reunited with her father, granted a chance to avert the catastrophes and use their foreknowledge to change the future. Unlike back then, they now had an army at their command instead of the last few survivors of humanity.

And because of that, Gerome knew that each of them, save for Lucina herself, was now expendable. It would be selfish to have them focus their resources on something so minor.

“I said it’s not important.” He staggered past her, making for his tent. The exhaustion of the day must have been getting to him, for Gerome almost thought he heard Lucina mumble “Perhaps not to you” as he passed.

The next morning, Gerome awoke with an ache in his wounded leg. He hissed in pain and grasped at it, cringing all the more when he found the bandages soaked with sweat and blood. The wound must have reopened in the night. How hadn’t he noticed earlier? Perhaps being in this “safer” past was dulling his instincts after all and softening him up.

Gerome slowly sat up, mindful of the leg. Even more slowly, he got to his feet, hobbling towards the tent flap. Maybe he could just ask Brady how to fix this himself – preferably with minimal attention drawn to himself. The last thing he needed was for the healers to swarm him and for Lucina to –

Gerome pulled back the tent flap, coming face-to-face with Lucina. A swath of bandages were clutched in her hands, and she nearly dropped them with a yelp of surprise.

“A-Ah! Good… er, morning.” The awkward smile and courteous nod made it worse, as if they were trying to pretend nothing was wrong.

Gerome frowned, and he looked down to her hands. “What’s this?”

“Your behavior yesterday was troubling. I thought perhaps if you didn’t want to burden our healers, it would be better if, well…” Lucina’s eyes kept flicking to his face and then away again. What did that mean? Had he—?

His mask.

In his delirious confusion, Gerome had forgotten to put on his mask.

Without a word, he let the flap close and hurried back inside.

“Gerome, wait–”

His mask lay by his bedroll, but with this leg… Gritting his teeth, he bent down to get it all the same. The wound stung the moment he bent his leg, and he collapsed to the ground. His head slammed into his tent pole, and the whole thing fell over on top of him. The cloth draped over him, hiding him from the shame of how foolish he must have looked – unable to even walk or stand, unable to even face Lucina when she only meant well.

Morning sunlight pierced his vision as the tent was thrown away. Lucina stood over him, her eyes wide.

“Are you hurt?” He could feel her scrutinizing gaze trying to figure out if he had gained any additional wounds from the fall.

“Don’t waste your sympathy,” Gerome growled, looking away. He set the mask on his face to hide his burning cheeks.

“Gerome, please.” Lucina knelt down next to him, but he still couldn’t look at her. “Did… Did I do something to offend you?”

“No.”

“Then please let me help you. I learned some… rudimentary first aid techniques from Aunt Lissa… If you won’t see a healer, then perhaps I could at least keep your wound from getting worse..?”

Gerome let out a low sigh, and he pushed himself upright. Still not exactly looking at Lucina, he stretched out his wounded leg. She heaved a sigh also, but this one seemed to be of relief. She unrolled the sticky linen bandages. Gerome tensed as the wound was exposed to the chill air.

“I apologize—”

“It’s not you,” said Gerome.

Lucina visibly relaxed, and she got to work. Tipping her waterskin towards his leg, she slowly poured water over the wound, dabbing at it with a rag with her other hand. At first, it stung, and Gerome had to bite his tongue to keep from crying out, but it eventually gave way to little more than a dull echo of the pain. Lucina unwound her own roll of the fresh bandages, starting to wind it around his leg after confirming that she wasn’t binding his leg too tightly.

“Our enemies grow stronger with each passing day,” Lucina suddenly murmured. An uncharacteristically dark look crossed her face for the briefest of moments.

“Hm?”

“Oh, it’s…” Lucina shook her head. “…nothing.”

“…Perhaps not to you,” he said.

Lucina stiffened, her hands stopping. She twisted the end of the bandage between her fingers. Her forehead was creased, as if she was mulling over something.

“It’s just…” Gerome looked back to her. “I saw that Risen archer in that battle yesterday. But I thought it was too far to harm anyone, so I pursued some of the swordsmen instead.” She visibly gulped. “It was my fault you were struck. I should have gone after the archer. I… cannot ask your forgiveness for that sort of carelessness.”

“No,” said Gerome.

“What?” Lucina raised her head, looking at him.

“No. You’re not the one who needs to be forgiven. I shouldn’t have been there to begin with.” Gerome could feel his heart beating out of his chest. His breath was catching, and he hadn’t even truly _admitted_ to the mistake just yet. “It’s my fault. Not yours.”

“You don’t need to take the blame for being wounded,” said Lucina.

“No,” insisted Gerome, feeling his cheeks flush. “I ignored orders and followed you—”

His jaw clamped shut. Too much. He had said too much. He edged away from Lucina, his mouth a straight line as he tried not to look at her. Anywhere else was better. The more distant tents of the others in the army. The treeline just over the horizon. Anywhere but Lucina.

“Followed… me?” Gerome felt a knot form in his throat. Surely she had figured it out now. “…I suppose I should have thought I couldn’t hide it forever.”

Gerome finally looked at her, his questioning gaze hidden by the mask. When Lucina didn’t clarify, he finally dared to ask, “What do you mean?”

“The wound, of course.” Gerome looked over Lucina, trying to figure out what she meant. Then finally it clicked into place. Why she even had all of these medical supplies to begin with. The oddness in her step as she had followed him the day before. How easily she had noticed his own awkward gait.

“You’re giving me too much credit,” Gerome growled, shaking his head. “I noticed no such thing.”

Lucina only sighed in response and hung her head, a curtain of hair falling in her face. “You don’t have to–”

“It’s not a lie. Had you not pointed it out just now, I wouldn’t be any the wiser. I followed you because… because I was worried something would happen.” His cheeks grew more flushed beneath his mask, and his breathing hitched again. “But it seems I failed even in that.”

“You were worried something would happen?” Lucina stared at him, perplexed.

That had been the wrong thing to say. Lucina, of course, could take care of herself. She was easily the most capable among them, to say nothing of how she wielded a divine blade. Gerome, hoping his hands weren’t as clammy as they felt, pushed her hands off the yet-unfinished binding on his leg and tied it himself.

“…Um…”

Gerome stared at the linen bandage, as if he were taking care to make sure the tie was extra-secure.

“I… I worried the same thing.” Slowly, Gerome lifted his head. “…I requested that you be placed well away from enemy fire and for me to take that spot on the frontlines instead because… I didn’t want you to be hurt.”

Gerome leaned back, looking up at the sky. “Why?”

“Because if you were to die…”

“It wouldn’t matter. Cherche can ride a wyvern, too, and we have the pegasus knights.”

“Don’t say that.” Gerome looked back to her. She was staring at the bloody bandages, her hands tense. Her jaw was set, that same steadfast determination that had brought them here to begin with present on her face now.

Had he been wrong all this time to keep his distance? No matter how much he had tried to stay afar from her, she had still tried to protect him. And in the end, they had both gotten hurt.

Still shaking, Gerome placed his hand on her shoulder. Lucina leaned closer to him, and he was afraid his trembling would ward her away. But it didn’t. They remained there in the still silence of the morning for what felt like forever.

“Thank you,” Lucina said, her voice a low murmur. Gerome only nodded, unsure of what to say until he noticed how awkwardly she was sitting, one of her legs splayed away from the rest of her body at an odd angle.

“…We’re going to go to the healers’ tent,” he decided. “Both of us.”

“What? But I thought…” Lucina shook her head. “And if they ask how we got wounded..?”

“We’ll say it’s not important.” Gerome stared at her, straight-faced, and he got a smile in return.

“Maybe not to _them,_ ” she said, and Gerome couldn’t help but crack the smallest of smiles back.


End file.
